Always Dakota (30 page)

Matt couldn’t keep from smiling at that. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Are you going to come see your daughter?” Sheryl lowered her voice, her tone confidential.

“I’m sure I will.”

“When?”

Matt’s gaze flickered toward Margaret. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Ah,” Sheryl said, “the little woman’s listening in, is she?”

“It’s not like that.”

Sheryl sighed expressively. “I’d argue if I thought it would do any good.”

“As I said, I’ll get back to you about when you can expect us.”

“Margaret’s coming with you?” Sheryl’s voice rose with indignation.

“That decision belongs to my wife,” Matt insisted.

“If she comes, she’s an even bigger fool than I thought.”

He ignored her remark. “I’ll be in touch with you later.”

Like everything else, Sheryl accepted this information with ill grace. “Don’t you want to know about Hailey? One would think a child’s father might ask when she was born and how much she weighed.”

“Of course I want to know.” Hearing the news of her birth had been jolt enough, although he thought he was prepared. “Tell me the rest.”

“She was born two days ago. She’s a little thing, only five pounds, six ounces. The doctor said if I’d quit smoking, she might have been bigger.”

Matt tensed, suppressing the anger he felt at her selfishness. “Did you have a hard time?” he asked instead.

“You think giving birth is easy, you should try it. It’s like shoving a watermelon through a doughnut hole.”

Matt didn’t know what to say.

“I have to tell you, though,” Sheryl continued, her harsh voice softening, “she’s beautiful.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“Is that a backhand way of telling me I’m beautiful?” Sheryl coaxed.

The question pulled Matt up short. “What do you mean?”

“You just said Hailey must be beautiful, and I asked if you were telling me I’m beautiful, too. I
am
her mother, you know.”

“I…didn’t mean anything.”

Sheryl blew out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know why you have to be so damned difficult. Nothing has to change with us—it never did. You’re the one who decided to stay with Miss Moneybags, but I can forgive and forget. We had a good thing going. If you’re interested in continuing our arrangement—the way it was before—I’d be willing to consider it. You can have me
and
go home to your wife.”

“No, Sheryl, I’m not interested.” He made sure his response was curt enough to get his message across.

“We’ll see,” Sheryl said after a short pause. “You come visit your daughter, and in the meantime I’ll put on my thinking cap.”

“What?”

She laughed softly. “I’m going to look for some inventive ways to detain you.” She groaned at the ensuing silence. “Bring your wife if you wish, but it won’t matter. I’m not making any secret of it, Matt, I want you back in my bed. You belong with me—and with your baby. Little Hailey needs her daddy,” she whispered, and then before he could respond, she hung up.

“Well?” Margaret asked when he replaced the receiver.

“Hailey Faith—that’s what she named her.” Shaken by the encounter, Matt gathered Margaret in his arms. Sheryl had just demonstrated what he knew to be true: she was determined to do everything in her power to either have him or destroy him.

“What is it?” Margaret asked, tilting her head back to meet his gaze.

He didn’t answer, not knowing how to explain his own heart. Hailey Faith was his daughter, and he didn’t know how to reconcile his feelings for this newborn baby. How could he love his child and at the same time detest her mother?

“Matt.” Margaret held his face between her hands.

He weighed the pros and cons of letting Margaret know about their conversation and decided to tell her. “Sheryl wants to continue our arrangement,” he confessed, deciding it was better to clear the air than hide anything from his wife again.

“Is that what you want?”

Her question shocked him. “Not on your life!”

“Actually it’d be
your
life. If you’d answered yes, I swear you’d be unable to walk upright without terrible pain for months.”

He laughed; Margaret’s sense of humor was exactly what he needed just then. But only later did he fully appreciate her wisdom and her insight into what the future held for them and Hailey.

“I have a daughter.”

“No,” she corrected him gently, holding his gaze. “
We
have a daughter. Hailey Faith is part of my life, too. I’m going to love her, welcome her into our home, nurture her and make her part of our family.”

Matt stared at the incredible woman he’d married and couldn’t find the words to thank her. They’d lodged themselves deep in his throat.

“We have a daughter,” she repeated.

“We,” Matt agreed, and held his wife close.

The pains started early Thursday afternoon in the last week of June. At first Sarah didn’t recognize what they were. She was seven and a half months along, just getting to the uncomfortable, awkward stage of pregnancy. The baby moved often, stretching and kicking. The ache low in her back was simply muscle pain, she decided. Dennis was continually after her about doing too much. She didn’t agree, but to be on the safe side, she left work and immediately went home and fell asleep.

The pains woke her an hour later. Now there was no disguising it: she was in labor. The low back pain worked its way around her abdomen with growing intensity. Checking her watch, she realized the contractions were coming regular as clockwork, every five minutes.

Not wanting to alarm her husband, the first person she phoned was Dr. Leggatt. Unfortunately he was out of the office, but she was able to talk to his nurse, Mrs. Berghoff.

“I’m in labor,” Sarah cried, doing her best to control the blinding sense of panic. “It’s too soon…I’m afraid I’m going to lose my baby.”

“Relax,” the woman told her calmly. “I’m sure everything’s going to be all right.”

“You don’t know that,” Sarah cried, clinging to the telephone receiver until her fingers went numb.

“You’re right, I don’t, but I do know that panicking isn’t good for you or for the baby. Is anyone with you?”

“No—my husband’s gone for the day.” Leave it to this baby to choose a day Dennis was delivering fuel.

“Is there anyone who can drive you to the hospital?”

“Yes…of course.”

“Good, then leave your husband a message and get started.”

“Without Dennis? But…I want him with me.”

“Mrs. Urlacher, for your sake and the sake of your child, don’t delay any longer. I’ll alert the hospital and they’ll be waiting for you. This hasn’t been an easy pregnancy. Let’s not do anything to jeopardize it now.”

“All right, all right,” Sarah agreed, fighting back the fear and hysteria. “I’ll come right away.”

Dennis was out of reach, but she did take time to contact two families along his route, asking them to let him know she’d left for the hospital. With her husband unavailable, the first people Sarah thought to contact were her brother and Maddy, but they were an hour from town. She couldn’t wait. Her second choice was her father. Her hand shook as she punched out the phone number.

Only it wasn’t her father who answered, but Calla.

“Where’s Dad?” she demanded.

“Hello to you, too, Mother,” Calla said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I need your grandfather,” Sarah cried, unwilling to engage in pettiness. There’d been too much of that between her and Calla in the past few weeks.

Something in Sarah’s tone must have alerted her daughter. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in labor. I need your grandfather to drive me to the hospital in Grand Forks.” Sarah’s voice trembled with urgency. A labor pain came over her, worse than the others, and she moaned softly.

“All right, all right, don’t panic,” Calla cried, sounding close to it herself. “I’ll get Gramps and send him right over.”

“Calla, please…”

“Mom, don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.”

Sarah desperately wanted to believe that, but her fears had intensified, as well as her pains.

Within minutes, the old battered pickup that belonged to her father pulled up in front of the house. Reaching for her overnight bag, Sarah started out the door, but it wasn’t her father who rushed to meet her. Instead of Joshua McKenna, there stood Calla.

“Where’s my dad?” Sarah asked.

“Playing poker in Devils Lake. You ready, or are we going to stand here and argue all afternoon?”

Sarah hesitated, then nodded. Calla had a driver’s license, had been driving for years. Despite their differences, she knew her daughter would get her where she needed to go.

Taking Sarah’s elbow, Calla carefully helped her inside the truck, then raced around the front and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Hold on,” she instructed as she revved the engine and shifted into gear.

Sarah clicked the seat belt into place and closed her eyes as another labor pain seized her. An involuntary moan slipped through her lips.

“You’re in pain?”

Sarah nodded. “It’s too soon—oh, Calla, it isn’t good for the baby to come this early.”

“You’re not going to lose my sister,” her daughter muttered. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” Then, apparently realizing what she’d said, she added, “A brother would be all right, too, but I’d prefer a little sister.”

Sarah didn’t have time to comment. Her full concentration went into breathing. As much as possible, she tried to give her body over to the contraction. Despite her efforts, all she could think about was her husband’s inevitable panic when he got word of what was happening.

“Relax, Mom,” Calla urged, gripping her hand. She squeezed Sarah’s fingers.

“When did you get to be such an expert on labor and birth?” Sarah snapped.

“I’m not,” Calla returned, ignoring her sarcasm. “That’s just common sense.”

The drive took forever. Twice Calla pulled over to the side of the road when Sarah cried out with the intensity of the contractions. They were coming hard and fast now, and it was all she could do to endure them.

“What can I do to help you?” Calla cried frantically.

Doubled over in agony, Sarah shook her head. “Nothing…nothing.”

“Mom, let me do something!”

“Just drive,” Sarah wailed, convinced that if it took much longer, the baby would be born in the front seat of the old truck. “Get me to the hospital.”

Calla tore back onto the highway for the second time, spitting dirt and gravel as she did.

Sarah noticed that Calla’s knuckles were as white and tense as her own.

By the time they arrived in Grand Forks, Sarah was weeping softly. She pressed her hands over her abdomen, afraid that with all the complications she’d already suffered, plus a premature birth, her baby didn’t have a chance.

Tires squealing, Calla pulled the truck into a spot normally reserved for emergency vehicles. Slamming her hand on the horn to attract attention, she cut the engine, then leaped out of the truck and raced through the doors into the hospital emergency room.

Almost immediately an orderly hurried outside with Calla, wheeling a chair. He opened the door and helped Sarah down.

“Be careful!” her daughter yelled.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Sarah insisted, but she wasn’t.

“Did Dr. Leggatt’s office phone?” Calla demanded as the orderly rolled Sarah into the hospital.

“I wouldn’t know,” the man responded.

“Well, find out!”

“Please,” Sarah sobbed, and gripped the orderly’s sleeve. “Please…”

Calla reached for her hand. “Mom, it’s going to be all right.”

“Why does everyone keep telling me that?” Sarah shouted. “My baby’s six weeks early—”

“Mom…Mom.” Calla knelt at her side by the admissions desk. The attendant was studying her computer and assembling pieces of papers, giving Sarah and Calla a few precious moments together. “Listen to me—”

“No, no. You don’t know—”

“I know you love your baby and that the baby can feel your love.”

“It didn’t work with you, did it?” Sarah hated being so caustic, but she couldn’t help herself.

To Sarah’s shock, Calla’s eyes filled with tears. “Actually it did.” Her daughter’s fingers tightened around her hand. “Despite everything I did—running away, being a real jerk—I always knew you loved me. I always knew I could turn to you for help. I’ve been acting like a spoiled brat for so long, I didn’t know how to tell you I regret everything I’ve done.”

Sarah stared at her daughter, certain her state of mind had conjured up those words.

“I love you, Mom,” Calla whispered. “I love my little half brother or half sister, too.”

“How…what happened?”

Calla brushed the back of her hand along the arch of her cheek, wiping away tears. “Does it matter?”